


The Boy in the Mirror

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [24]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Awkward Conversations, Emotional Baggage, Gen, Magic, Magic Mirrors, Sibling Bonding, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20654921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: Church's emotions get the better of him after another dinner with Leonard. When Carolina goes after him, she's surprised by what she discovers.





	The Boy in the Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks goes out to Aryashi for helping me with this one, since I set myself up for not one, not two, but three awkward conversations in one fic and needed her help in making sure it worked. Also bear with me because this season is going to be so much longer than seasons one and two, but also there's going to be so much fun stuff this season. :D Hope you all enjoy!

Church keeps hoping that Grey will get bored of making him and Leonard miserable and let him avoid these stupid dinners, but the third time isn’t the charm.

He stabs at his broccoli with his fork, getting petty satisfaction out of everyone’s annoyed expressions as his fork scrapes his plate. “So Carolina gets to do track and I’m just stuck here every day? Can’t I join a club or something?”

Kimball raises an eyebrow, suspicious of his sudden interest in afterschool activities. He doesn’t really blame her. “You didn’t join any last year.”

“Last year I could hang out with Caboose and Tucker instead,” Church mutters.

Carolina gives him a look. Heat crawls up the back of his neck as she says, a tinge of knowing amusement in her voice, “Let me guess. You want to join the robotics club.”

Grey glances between them curiously. “I didn’t realize James had an interest in robotics!” She shakes her head. “It’s just too bad that it’s a club and not a class. You might’ve actually tried enough for an A this year.”

Church rolls his eyes. “Ugh, it’s the first week of school, how are you already talking about grades? Besides, a B is still above average.” He tenses instinctively at the sound of Leonard’s voice.

“You’ve been performing above average in school?”

Church bristles. He’s about to snap at Leonard when he realizes that Leonard’s tone wasn’t accusatory, like he’s a failure of a clone for not being perfect. It was something worse. It was _interested_.

Church’s skin crawls. He prefers Leonard pretending that he doesn’t exist. This weird curiosity will lead to nothing good. He slouches low in his seat, clenching his fists under the table. “It’s just stupid mortal stuff,” he mutters.

Leonard’s blind gaze looks pensively in his direction for a moment before Leonard apparently loses interest.

Church doesn’t relax, not with Leonard still in the room, but relief loosens his shoulders.

“We’ll think about the Robotics Club,” Kimball says. “I want to get the club schedule from the teacher first.”

Church blinks at her. “What? Why?” When she raises an eyebrow, he snorts. “Oh, like I’m gonna lie and say I’m at the club when I’m at the Slicery. Come on.” Even as the protest escapes his lips, though, Church inwardly kicks himself. That would’ve been a great plan.

Carolina shifts in her seat. When he looks at her, she looks weirdly amused. “I think it’s Mr. Simmons.”

“What?” Church says blankly. Then he bites back a groan. “Yeah. It is. You know what, maybe another club would--”

“Oh no,” Kimball says, beginning to smile. “I think the Robotics Club sounds perfect.”

“Yes!” Grey agrees. She leans forward, her eyes bright. “And maybe you could ask Mr. Simmons what he and Leonard have been up to, since Leonard is being annoyingly close-mouthed about their little experiments!”

“My dear Emily, I am currently blind, not deaf.”

Grey giggles. “Well, you’re not mute either, but you won’t tell me anything--”

Church tunes the ensuing argument out. He doesn’t want to think about Leonard teaching Simmons magic. It makes him think of the Council and punishments. He’s seen how Carolina deals with being separated from her parents for almost a year. He doesn’t want to see her upset when Leonard is an idiot and gets himself turned into a familiar for a century or two.

He eyes Leonard warily. He doesn’t have a clue what Leonard is thinking. It makes him nervous. He wishes that Leonard had kept just ignoring his existence. Now every time the guy even glances in his direction, he braces himself.

By the time the dinner’s over and Leonard leaves with a flash of lightning and crack of thunder, Church’s so tense that his jaw aches. “I’m not doing this again,” he says, without thinking about it.

“Oh, James,” Grey chides. “You really don’t have a choice.”

“There’s a difference between punishment and torture!” It’s meant to be sarcastic, but the words twist and sour on the way out of his mouth. They come out sincere enough that Grey blinks and gives him a searching look. He scowls back.

“Just let him eat in his room,” Carolina says. “It’ll be better.”

He’s braced himself for Leonard, but he wasn’t prepared for Carolina’s betrayal. He doesn’t look at her. He tries to laugh. It gets lost somewhere between his chest and his mouth. “Yeah. Better.”

Kimball glances around the table. Whatever she sees in everyone’s faces makes her say, “We’ll discuss this later. Right now, you two probably have homework.”

“Homework,” he repeats. His skin crawls again as he imagines another discussion of his grades with Leonard, or even just more of Leonard’s attention. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

Kimball’s eyes narrow. “Church--”

He stands up, the screeching slide of the chair against the linoleum making everyone, himself included, wince. Before Kimball can say anything else, he points a finger and takes himself to his room. He flops onto his bed, muffling a groan into his pillow. Why was mentioning his stupid grades what got Leonard’s attention? He should've just stuck to his original plan: just not talking when Leonard was around.

But now Leonard _is_ paying attention, and that won’t lead to anywhere good. Church remembers Grey’s diagnostic spells during those first few weeks. He remembers, too, the fact that she hadn’t taken him apart only because she didn’t want to destroy such an interesting spell. The memories and the conviction that Leonard’s study of him wouldn’t be so gentle get him back on his feet.

He paces, irritated that Kimball hadn’t made his room bigger when she magicked it into existence. He moves from one side of the room to the other, trying to think of a way to avoid Leonard.

He comes up with one dumb plan after another. "Ugh,” he mutters. He tugs at his hair, like the pain will spark a brilliant idea. “Next week I don't care what anyone says, I’m not eating with them. I'll go invisible or something.”

“Or you could hide here.”

Church squawks and jumps, whirling to stare at his reflection, which presses its face against the glass, giving him an earnest look and saying, “No one will look for you in the mirror.”

Church frowns. “I know, but….” He thinks of Carolina escaping into the mirror during her bad mood. It would only be temporary, it wouldn’t last, but even a day’s reprieve from Leonard is tempting, enough that he hesitates.

That hesitation is all his reflection needs. The mirror’s surface ripples as arms reach out, and Church yelps as the reflection’s hands seize his shoulders and drag him to and through the mirror.

Church blinks. He’s in the mirror world, watching his reflection on the other side look around with an expression that flits from desperately relieved to frightened. Church slams a fist against the mirror and then yelps, this time in pain. He cradles his stinging hand and protests, “Hey! I didn’t say yes! Let me out!”

The reflection ignores him.

Church yells, “Hey!” as the reflection goes to the closet and brings out a familiar bag. It’s his emergency bag, the one he got that first month when he was convinced Grey was going to get bored and turn him over to Leonard. He watches as the reflection begins to ransack the room, yanking open a drawer and dumping the candy inside into the bag.

Then the reflection stands on the bed and reaches for the overhead light where Church has hidden some of the America’s Funniest Home Videos money.

“That’s my money! What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” the reflection says, not looking at him as he stuffs the roll of cash into the bag and then goes left, then hesitates, and then right to the bedside table where Church taped more of the cash underneath. “Getting out of here. I’m not sticking around to be Dranoel’s newest experiment.”

“What--”

“No!” the reflection shouts. He jabs a shaking finger in the mirror’s direction. There’s a wild look in his eyes. “_No_! I’m not going to let you pretend everything's fine! If you aren’t going to run, I will!”

Church stares. He tries to reach through the glass again, but all he does is jam his fingers. “Look, if your Leo-- Dranoel-- whatever-- is after you, run in your own world! You can’t just leave me here!”

The reflection stares at him, white-faced. Something like guilt twists his features before a hunted look replaces it. He looks around, like he’s expecting Dranoel to show up. He throws the bag across his shoulders and says, “Watch me.”

“Hey!” Church yells. He pounds on the glass as the reflection heads to the door.

The reflection fumbles with the doorknob and then yanks it open.

“Wait--” Church hits the mirror one last time as the door closes behind his reflection. “Crap.”

* * *

Carolina looks up from her homework at Church’s muffled yell.

She knows Church hates these dinners with her dad, but she didn’t think he was frustrated enough to actually scream at Grey and Kimball. She sets her textbook aside and gets to her feet. Yelling isn't going to help. Church is going to need some back-up, or at least someone to elbow him when he goes too far.

She hears his door open. She pokes her head out of her room, expecting to see Grey and Kimball. Instead she sees Church bolting for the stairs, with no adults in sight. “What are you doing?” she asks, staring at the bag he’s carrying.

Church freezes in place for a second. "Going out," he mutters.

"Uh, we're grounded."

Church twitches a little at the reminder. He points a finger, and Carolina has a second to wonder why it pings her as wrong before there’s a spark of blue and a door appears in the wall. He bolts through it before Carolina can say anything else.

Carolina stares in disbelief, and then she runs after him. He’s made a set of stairs to the outside. He’s already almost at the last step, about to disappear into the darkness of the backyard. “Church!” she whispers furiously, and scrambles down the stairs.

He ignores her, bolting for the back fence, but she’s faster. She grabs his bag and yanks on it. He stumbles to a stop with a startled noise. His arms flail wildly before he turns and sees her. “Let go,” he hisses.

“What are you doing? Do you _want_ Grey and Kimball to ground you for a millennia?”

“Let go!” Church’s hand comes up, and she thinks he’s going to try and pull the bag out of her grip. Instead there’s another flash of blue. Something invisible shoves Carolina backwards.

Things click in her head as she stumbles, barely managing to keep herself from twisting her ankle. She stares into his dimly lit face, both familiar and alien with its terrified look, and then down at his still pointing hand. The wrong hand. Church isn't right-handed. That’s Church’s reflection. But since when could reflections escape their mirrors? Hers hadn’t when--

“Wait!” she says, lunging forward, but Hcruhc has already hopped the fence. “Stop!” She hesitates, glancing over her shoulder towards the stairs. For a second she’s paralyzed. She doesn’t know enough about magic, but this isn’t right. Is Church trapped in the mirror? Is he magically tied up in his room? Should she go after his reflection?

Magic. Right. Carolina can do both. She closes her eyes, brings her cupped hands to her mouth, and runs as the speed spell’s energy buzzes through her.

The wind whips the next spell out of her mouth as she points a finger and says, “My brother’s reflection has run away-- no, crap, that won’t work. Crap. I need to see Church's room, or else...uh...he might run off on a...broom?”

The spell’s half a grimace, half a question, but her finger sparks. A floating image appears in front of her. Church’s room is empty, but the mirror isn’t clouded over with storm clouds. She can see Church, scowling and worried, and watch him slap his hand against the mirror’s surface before he turns and disappears further into the mirror world.

Carolina refocuses as the reflection summons a broom. “Hey!” She dives for him, her fingers sliding over his shoe as he kicks frantically and starts to fly. “Stop!”

She starts running again, trying to keep him in her line of sight as he flies over houses. She jumps over a fence and grimaces as a dog yelps in surprise and barks halfheartedly as she flits past him. She’s going to take Hcruhc and throw him back through the mirror.

As fast as her speed spell is, though, Church’s reflection doesn’t have to deal with fences and houses. He quickly pulls ahead, the distance widening until she knows she’s going to lose him.

Just before he disappears from view, the broom turns south.

Towards the school, she thinks, or hopes, and keeps running.

* * *

Church tries the door. It doesn’t open. He tries it again, chanting, “Crap, crap, crap!” when it still doesn’t open. He chokes on panic. He’s not getting stuck in this backwards world, he’s not--

Wait. Backwards. Everything is backwards here. He twists the handle in the opposite direction. This time it opens. He has a second to feel a little stupid, and then Carolina-- Anilorac? -- grabs the door mid-swing.

Her eyes are wide with alarm. “What are you doing? Yerg and Llabmik are going to come up here and we’ll be in trouble!” From the way her voice squeaks on the last word, Grey and Kimball’s anger is one of the worst things ever.

Church stares at her.

She’s not done. “We're gonna be in trouble, and then they'll yell, or worse, they'll yell and then tell Dad and he's going to be mad too, and then I won't be able to focus on my spellwork or homework and I'll fail at everything! I can't fail at everything!”

She says this all in a frantic rush. By the end she looks about to hyperventilate.

“Uh,” Church says.

"I don't want to end up working at the Slicery!" she wails in an anguished whisper, like that's somehow the natural conclusion to the whole thing.

“Uh huh,” Church says slowly. He sidles around her. Luckily Anilorac is too busy muttering about oil burns and how awful greasy pizza smells to notice his escape.

He looks around, trying to figure out what to do. It’s impossible to miss the stairs, even though everything is opposite, so he heads that way. Anilorac isn’t going to be too helpful in getting him back to his world, but maybe the mirror world’s Grey or Kimball can help. At the very least, he can probably get some advice.

Then again, Anilorac seems pretty scared of them so maybe--

Downstairs, someone screams in terror.

* * *

The speed spell lasts until Carolina gets to the school parking lot.

She pauses just long enough to swipe her sweaty hair away from her face and then she storms towards the front doors. She hopes she’s right. There’s no sign of the broom outside, so maybe he’s flying away from Westbridge completely.

She stares up at the building. Her experiences with Westbridge High at night haven’t exactly been great. Neither has Church’s. Why would Hcruhc come here?

When she magics the front doors open, she hears the sound of a fist slamming against a locker and a familiar yell of frustration. She runs towards the lockers, ignoring the exhausted twinges from her legs.

Carolina rounds the corner just as the reflection apparently loses his temper and opens the locker door with magic. She pauses, curious, and watches him pull out a huge roll of money and stuff it into his bag.

“Okay,” he mutters. He rubs his hand against his mouth. “Okay. Right. Now just gotta-- no!”

Carolina slides past him as he dodges her tackle. She turns, reaching for the back of his shirt, but he’s already grabbing his broom and bolting. “Stop!” she yells. Her voice echoes down the hallway. “What did you do to Church?”

"I didn’t _do _anything! I'm _helping_ him!"

There’s a defensive note in his voice, and earnestness too. “Helping him? You stuck him in the mirror!”

“I gave him a chance to run too!”

“Run from _what_?” Carolina demands, chasing after him.

He laughs, a high, incredulous sound. He actually slows a little, glancing over his shoulder to give her a disbelieving look. “Seriously?” Then he laughs again. This time it’s bitter. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. You can’t help him.”

“What are you talking about?”

He ignores her, swinging a leg over his broom as soon as he’s out the front doors.

“Wait,” she says, but he’s already flying. She stares after him, frustration and worry tightening her chest. Is Church in danger? Well, obviously he’s in danger, he’s trapped in the mirror, but that didn’t seem to be what his reflection was talking about.

She runs back inside to the nearest supply closet. There’s a broom in there, dusty and gross, but beggars can’t be choosers. She grabs it and runs back outside. She swings her leg over it, straddling it awkwardly. She tries to remember how the reflection did it. She pushes off the ground with her legs.

The broom stays still and she ends up just jumping awkwardly. “Come on,” she hisses at it. She tries again, with the same result. Hcruhc is a dwindling figure in the sky, and this time she has no idea where he’s going.

“Please work!” She takes a running leap.

This time the broom twitches. She clutches grimly to the handle as the broom wobbles and then begins to fly, weaving awkwardly but determinedly towards the reflection.

* * *

“It’s a spider,” Church says flatly. “And you’re a _witch_.”

“It could be poisonous,” Llabmik argues from her position up on the coffee table. Her brown skin is gray, and her eyes are fixed on the tiny spider on the wall.

“Uh huh,” Church says. He watches the spider for a second. Llabmik is terrified; he can hear the hitch in her breath as the spider resumes its slow crawl towards the ceiling. It’s ridiculous. This whole mirror world is ridiculous. Everyone’s so scared and--

“Ugh,” he says, grimacing. He knows the mirror world is influenced by his mood, but he’s not _scared_. He’s justifiably concerned about Leonard! There’s a _difference_. He says slowly, “So, if I deal with the spider, will you answer a totally hypothetical question?”

“Just get it away from me!”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he mutters. It’s not that hard to trap the spider, although Llabmik’s worried shriek when he scoops it into a cup and tosses it outside is distracting. He closes the door. He turns and watches as she gingerly steps down from the coffee table, brushing at her shoulders and twitching like she can feel the spider on her. “So, my question.”

“Is it if there are more spiders around? Because there might be. Where there’s one spider, there’s another spider--”

“No. Uh. It’s-- so say, again, hypothetical, that someone from this side of the mirror escaped to the other side and pulled that version to this side. How would, uh, you suggest the not mirror person get back to his-- or her!-- world?”

Llabmik looks away from where she’s been worriedly scanning the walls. “What?”

Church sighs. “Hypothetically, if someone from this side of the mirror traded places with their person from the other side, how could the not mirror person get back to their world?”

Llabmik’s eyes widen. Church didn’t think she could look more alarmed, but she does. “Witches get stuck here all the time with their bad moods, but I’ve never heard of--”

“Yeah! Yeah, just...a weird scenario.”

She frowns. “Well, witches get trapped here because of their emotions, and their emotions influence our moods too, so witches have to help us before they can return to their world. I’d guess a witch would still have to do that.”

“Seriously?” Church mutters. He sighs. Well, everyone seems scared. At least Llabmik’s problem has an easy solution. He points a finger and intones, “So that Llabmik isn’t always consumed by fear, keep all spiders far from here.”

In retrospect, he probably should expect all the spiders that suddenly appear and crawl out the door. He doesn’t. He screeches and jumps onto the couch. How does one place hold so many spiders?

It takes him a second after the spiders are gone to realize Llabmik didn’t scream with him. He looks at her. She’s standing still. She might as well be turned to stone. Her eyes are wide and unblinking. When she doesn’t move, he coughs and says, “Uh, Llabmik?”

He thinks her lips move a little, but she doesn’t say a word.

“...Are you okay?”

That gets a long sigh from her and a whisper through clenched teeth, “I..am going to need... a minute….”

“Right,” Church says. He gives her the minute, resisting the urge to fidget impatiently. At least he has a fragment of a plan now. Everyone has to calm down, so if he just helps Anilorac with her fears, he’ll be able to pass through the mirror and--

Above his head there’s a crack of thunder. A second later, purple smoke billows down the stairs and the distant sound of half-hysterical laughter fills the air.

“Crap, I forgot about Yerg,” he mutters. He makes a face. The name sounds even more stupid out loud than just in his head. He glances at Llabmik. “So, uh, anything else you’re scared of that I can handle? Snakes? Centipedes?”

“No,” Llabmik says. The color’s starting to return to her face. She shudders. “I just...really hate spiders.”

Church sighs. He trudges towards the stairs, muttering, “Yeah, well, I hate this,” as he goes.

* * *

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this,” Carolina chants to herself.

The reflection makes flying a broom look simple, but Carolina’s seems to have a mind of its own. She clutches desperately to the handle as the broom continues its wobbly chase. She’s managed to keep him in her line of sight, but that’s about it.

Can you get air-sick? Carolina keeps clinging to the broom as it lurches back and forth. If she didn’t know better, she would swear it was trying to buck her off.

She glares after Hcruhc as he seems to put on a burst of speed.

“I hate this _so_ much!”

* * *

Church stares at the door to Yerg’s room. He has no idea what to expect, but hopefully her fears will be something as simple to fix as spiders.

There’s another flash of lightning and round of giggling.

He braces himself.

The door swings open at the knock and Yerg peers out at him. She doesn’t look particularly frightened, though her lab coat has some worrying purple stains on them. She flashes her teeth in a smile and says, “Good evening, Semaj! Do you need something?”

“Uh, maybe,” Church says. He hesitates, wondering if he can get away with his hypothetical scenario. She doesn’t seem distracted by fear like LLabmik and Anilorac though, and he doesn’t have a back-up plan if she sees through the lie.

Yerg’s smile falters. The longer the silence stretches, the more tense she visibly becomes. “Semaj, I really need to get back to work.”

“Right, yeah, I, uh, I helped Llabmik out with her spider problem so I figured, I’m on a roll, why not, uh, see if you needed help with something? That you’re afraid of?” Church inwardly grimaces as the questions stutter out of his mouth.

Both eyebrows raise. Yerg giggles, though there’s an edge to the sound. “Oh, Semaj. That’s sweet, but really, if _I_ can’t stop this creeping sense of nameless dread, I doubt _you_ can do anything about it!”

Church blinks. “Nameless dread? What?”

Yerg sighs. She’s still smiling faintly, but she’s started to chew on her bottom lip. “If I could describe it better, it wouldn't be nameless, would it? Now, I should get back to work. Distractions are helpful!”

“Wait!” Church says when she starts to close the door.

A spasm goes across Yerg’s face. She opens her mouth, like she’s going to laugh again, and then shakes her head. “Semaj, I really need--”

“Distractions,” Church says. Inwardly, he’s panicking a little. How do you help someone when they don’t even know what they’re scared of? He glances down at her hand, where he can see she’s bitten her nails. Her violet polish is chipped. “You need a better distraction.”

“Semaj--”

“Llabmik!”

Yerg blinks. “Wha--”

“She’s a better distraction than a dumb experiment. You should. Go talk to her. About literally anything that isn’t spiders.”

“I,” Yerg says slowly. “That might not be a terrible idea.”

“You’re welcome! Seriously, go talk to her.” Church begins to back up towards his reflection’s room, hoping his suggestion works. Having Tucker and Caboose around has always been a good distraction for him. He points at her. “And I mean it. Don’t mention spiders.”

Yerg nods, looking bemused. She steps into the hallway and turns towards the stairs.

“Oh, Assenav! What are your plans for the evening?”

"What?" comes the distant, puzzled response.

"Let's talk!"

"...Okay?"

Church takes a breath. Right. One person left.

* * *

When the reflection pauses in the air and then darts towards the ground, it takes Carolina a second to recognize where they are. They’re at the clearing where Church taught her the speed spell.

Carolina frowns. Why would he come here?

The reflection is crouched beside a tree stump with his back to her, but he twists around to face her as she lands heavily, his eyes wide. He’s got another roll of cash in his hand. For a second his lips part, like he’s about to say something. Then he starts to scramble to his feet, his gaze darting towards his broom.

Carolina drops hers and lunges. She’s not letting him get away again. It ends up as more of a football tackle than anything else, her arms around his waist and her head against his shoulder as she knocks him backwards.

They both go sprawling.

Hcruhc squirms. She grabs his hands before he can do another knock-back spell on her, and the squirming turns into frantic flailing. “No, no, no, no!” The protest is screeched into Carolina’s ears, loud enough that she winces but doesn’t let go. “Just let me go! _Please_!”

His terrified voice cracks, and Carolina recognizes this desperation. It’s the same as when Church clung to Carolina and begged her not to let her father destroy him. The plea is like a kick to the stomach. She gets her face close to his. “I’m not going to hurt you!”

The reflection laughs, a raw, hysterical sound. “I’m not worried about _you_!”

Carolina stares down at him. His terror is almost infectious, even though she knows better from her own experience with the other side of the mirror. She knows how the mirror world works, the way it takes your negative emotions and amplifies them to a ridiculous degree and everyone becomes parodies of themselves. But before tonight, she would’ve assumed a mirror Church would be screeching with frustration and annoyance over her dad’s visits.

She didn’t know he was _scared_.

The reflection’s still trying to escape, squirming against her grip. She doesn’t know what to say, so she just lets him wear himself out thrashing and struggling in her hold for a minute. She grits her teeth when his knee gets in a painful hit, hard enough to leave a bruise, but the mirror world’s Church is just as out of shape as hers. She keeps him pinned pretty easily.

When he stops, gasping for breath, she’s still not sure what to say. Calming people down has never really been a talent of hers.

Still, she has to try.

* * *

Church checks Anilorac’s room first, but it’s empty. Then he realizes his counterpart’s bedroom door is still ajar.

He cautiously pokes his head inside.

He feels a pang of guilt when he spies her sitting on the bed. He probably shouldn’t have left her alone when she was working herself into a panic attack. Her hair is hiding her face, but when he takes a step inside, she brushes it back behind her ear, and he realizes she’s staring at the mirror.

“Did he even tell you to say goodbye for him?”

“Uh,” Church says.

“No,” she says. She breathes shakily and shakes her head. “No, of course not. Stupid question.”

The misery in her voice makes him wince. He steps inside and closes the door behind him. Then he hesitates. He was prepared for more of her earlier hysterics, not this quiet sadness that seems to fill the entire room. “I’m….”

“You’re what?” Anilorac asks when he trails off.

“I don't think he was thinking too clearly. He was pretty scared.”

She laughs, a raw, harsh sound. Now she actually turns and faces him. Church realizes, with another pang of guilt, that her eyes are rimmed red. “Of course he’s scared! Everything’s awful! The Council hates me-- well, not me but the half-mortal thing. I could lose at track and Hsaw won’t want to be my friend anymore. I could mess up some stupid magic rule and Mom’s stuck as a ball of wax forever. And what about heights? What if Yerg or Llabmik make me do a spell about heights, I can’t--”

Her voice gets higher the more things she rattles off, back to that tinge of hysteria, but before Church can figure out a way to interrupt, she clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head.

In a quieter voice, she says, “I just thought we could be scared together, but...Hcruhc left. They all leave. I know Mom didn't want to, that they made her, but Dad could've-- you know-- and he didn't.... And now Hcruhc left.”

Church’s always planned to run. He’s had plans for how basically as soon as he got to the brownstone. He's just...never thought about what running _meant_. The silence stretches for so long it feels ready to snap before he says, “Your mom's going to come back. Leonard-- I mean Dra-whatever-- came back already, remember? They might leave, but they're all gonna come back to you.”

Anilorac stares towards the mirror. “All of them?”

Despite the tension, Church can’t help but snort. “No offense, but I’m not staying in your mirror world. He's coming back whether he wants to or not.”

Anilorac is startled into smiling. It’s faint and slightly crooked, but Church’s relieved anyway. “This world’s not that bad. It’s just whenever one of you witches start sulking, we have to deal with it.”

Church grimaces at the reminder that everyone’s fears are his fault. “Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” he says. “I’m still not staying. Your names are weird. How do you even _say_ Hcruhc?”

“What? _Church _is the weird name!”

“Sure, _Anilorac_,” Church scoffs. He goes over to the mirror, peering into his room. It’s empty. It takes him a second to realize she’s gone silent. When he turns, the smile’s vanished from her face. “He’ll come back,” he promises.

“Yeah,” Anilorac says. She doesn’t look convinced. In a quiet voice, so low that Church isn’t sure he’s meant to hear, she adds, "I just wish they wouldn't leave in the first place."

Church gets hit by guilt again. “That's not your fault,” he says, putting all the conviction he can in his voice. It helps that it’s true. It’s not Carolina or Anilorac’s fault that the Council hates mortals and witch-mortal marriages. He forces a smile. “And they'll come back because you're pretty cool, if you haven't noticed. Well, okay, this is bizarro land so maybe you're a total nerd--”

Anilorac raises her eyebrows. There’s that faint crooked smile again. “That's not how it works and you know it.”

“Hey, this is my first time in your mirror world. I don’t know how you guys are when we’re not messing with your moods,” Church says. Anilorac still looks amused, which is good. He can’t fix her problems, especially the ones Council-related, but he can at least distract her from them. She doesn’t look on the verge of tears or a panic attack anymore. He’ll take that as a win.

He fakes surprise. “Wait, you mean you’re awesome in both worlds? Come on, save some cool for the rest of us.”

Anilorac laughs.

Church relaxes a little at the sound. Maybe he’s calmed her down enough to get back to his side of the mirror. He tilts his head and says, “So let me see if I can get back to my world and drag the idiot back for you.”

Her smile fades, but there’s still a tinge of amusement in her voice as she asks, “You realize you're insulting yourself, right?”

“Uh,” Church says, and dodges the question by turning towards the mirror. He can feel his heartbeat get faster as he reaches out. His palm meets the solid, cold glass. “Come on,” he mutters. He presses harder, but nothing happens. “Ugh.”

“Sorry,” Anilorac says.

Church snorts. “Hey, my reflection, my problem.” He flops onto the bed, and then squirms a little before he realizes that his mirror counterpart’s piled up his pillows on the opposite side of the bed. He sits up and looks at Anilorac. “So…. Snacks while we wait?”

* * *

Church’s reflection has stopped thrashing around, but he’s still breathing hard, his entire body tense. Carolina doesn’t lower her guard or loosen her grip. She has no idea where he’ll go next, or what it means for Church if he runs off with all that money, stashed in all those strange places.

“...You didn’t hide this money. Church did. Way before now. Right?” The words slip out of her mouth and she immediately wishes she could take them back.

He blinks up at her. His chest heaves. “Uh. I mean. Yeah?”

“Why?”

Hcruhc lets out a strained laugh. There’s exhaustion in the sound, but that hysteria too, and disbelief. “Come on, A-- Carolina. Don’t play dumb! You know why! Getting out alive doesn’t mean crossing your fingers and hoping no one’s gonna unmake you. It means money and escape plans and running as far away as possible, so just let me go.”

Carolina almost does out of surprise. He starts squirming as soon as her grip loosens a little; she instinctively tightens her grasp. She searches his face, but all she sees is fear and desperation. She says slowly, “Unmake you? I didn’t think-- you’re still worried about that?”

The reflection drops his head to the grass and squeezes his eyes shut, hissing a breath through his teeth. “Am I still worried about that,” he says in a toneless voice. “Of course I am. You saw the way _he_ looked at me-- well, at Church. He’s going to take me apart to see what he did wrong, and no one’s gonna stop him.”

There’s no emotion in the last sentence, like he’s too exhausted to feel anything. Or like the fear has numbed him.

Carolina’s heart twists in her chest. Church has been making escape plans. He’s been expecting to run this whole time. She’d thought--

She tries to look him in the eyes, but he still has them closed. “No one’s going to unmake you. I won’t let them.”

The reflection opens his eyes at that, blinking up at her. For a second only surprise fills his face. Then new emotions chase away the surprise. It takes Carolina a second to recognize them: hope and doubt. His mouth twists, like he’s about to say something, before he just smiles weakly at her, rueful.

“I won’t let them,” she repeats just as fiercely.

Hcruhc blinks once, twice, and then laughs shakily. “I... wow. He's an idiot. He forgot you already stood up against Dranoel for him. And you'd known him like...three days.”

“I didn’t stand up to Dranoel,” Carolina points out.

Even in the moonlight, she can see his blush. “You know what I mean,” he mutters. “Leonard. Or however you say his name here.” He sounds like her Church, peevish and flustered.

Carolina almost smiles, but she’s distracted by the thought that Church is terrified of her father. He really believes that her dad would still murder him after all these months. Even as she thinks it, she realizes something worse. She doesn’t know if he’s wrong. Earlier, she sided with Church, trying to help him escape the dinners that he clearly hated. Now she realizes that wasn’t the right track. Her father needs to get to know Church, to learn that he’s a _person_. That’s the only way Church will be able to stop worrying.

Carolina lets go of the reflection and stands. He squints up at her, his glasses slightly askew from his earlier struggling, as she offers him a hand. “Come on,” she says. “Your Anilorac’s got your back.”

He hesitates, searching her expression again, and then sighs. Another rueful smile curves his lips. “Yeah. She does.” He grabs her hand and hauls himself upright. Then he groans. For a second she’s worried she injured him with that earlier tackle, and then he grumbles, “Crap. This means I have to return his money, right?”

Carolina laughs. “Definitely.”

* * *

“Uno!” Church says triumphantly as Anilorac lays her second-to-last card down on the bed.

She makes a face at him. “It’s Onu.”

“No, it’s not, because that sounds stupid. And it still counts. Take two cards--”

Anilorac’s eyes focus on something behind him, her expression twisting into a mixture of relief and annoyance. Church is already whipping around to stare at the mirror even before she says, “Hcruhc.”

His reflection smiles wanly. “Uh, hi.” Behind him, Carolina is wearing an expression Church can’t quite figure out, but which makes him fight a wince anyway.

Church says quickly, “We’ll call it a draw,” and ignores Anilorac’s “Uh, I have one card left and you have four, so no, I won,” as he scrambles off the bed and moves towards the mirror.

His reflection meets him there. For a second they just look at each other. His reflection looks calmer, though not completely at ease. “Didn’t know your Anilorac tried out for football instead of track,” his reflection says, sarcasm dripping off the words.

Church blinks. “What?”

“Oh, I tackled him,” Carolina says matter-of-factly.

“Good,” Anilorac says.

He and his reflection exchange a look.

Church is about to ask if he’s getting his money back when he realizes his emergency bag is over by the door where either the reflection or Carolina dropped it. So Carolina almost definitely knows about his emergency cash. Great.

Trying to distract himself from the upcoming awkward conversation, Church says, “So, are you gonna apologize or what?”

The reflection snorts. He raises a hand to the glass. When he presses his palm against it, it ripples like water. “Yeah, no. This was your fault, so--”

Church reaches through, grabs him by the wrist, and yanks.

“--lets just call it even,” the reflection finishes from his side of the mirror. He rubs at his wrist.

Behind him, Anilorac gets up from the bed.

Church takes a step back from the mirror. Judging by the look on her face, Church might’ve cheered her up a little, but she’s still mad. “We’ll, uh, let you guys have some privacy.” He summons a heavy cloth that covers the mirror’s surface. Then he waits a second, but if Hcruhc and Anilorac are arguing, he can’t hear anything.

He turns and finds Carolina staring at him. He smiles guiltily. “Hey. Uh, any chance we can skip the whole awkward conversation and go straight to me saying thanks for dragging him back here?”

“No,” Carolina says flatly.

Church sighs. “I figured.”

“Church,” Carolina says. She stops. She looks like she’s going to say something, and then just turns and grabs his emergency bag, handing it to him without a word.

He remembers Anilorac sitting on the bed, staring at the mirror, and feels another guilty pang. He fiddles with the bag’s strap. She hasn’t said anything but his name but he still finds himself blurting out, “I didn't have a planned day, or anything. I thought of it like... just in case.”

“Just in case someone tries to unmake you.”

Church flinches. “That guy was a blabbermouth,” he snaps before he realizes he should’ve just played dumb. He avoids her eyes. “Look, Carolina….” He struggles for the right words even as he wonders how much his reflection told her.

“You don't...have to explain. It makes sense.” Carolina runs a hand down her ponytail, fiddling with the end of it while she adds, watching him carefully, “You could’ve talked to me about it. You still can, if you want to, but, uh, you don’t have to.”

There’s concern in her voice, and a small furrow in her forehead, and Church has a sudden image of his reflection babbling all of his fears-- all his concerns, real or imagined, at her. Ugh. He twists the bag strap and says, “So skipping the conversation is back on the table?”

Carolina shakes her head. “No, we still need to talk, or at least… Just...I want you to know that I won’t let them, okay?” A familiar stubborn glint appears in her eyes. It’s the one she gets when she’s ready to do something stupid. “I _won’t_.”

It’s more comforting than it should be, knowing that Carolina is willing to yell and argue and be upset if someone tries to kill him. It’s comforting enough that he manages a half-genuine smile. “Okay.”

“I mean it,” she says firmly. Her eyes flick down to the bag. “I can help you hide the money.”

Church can just imagine Carolina trying to hide cash somewhere ridiculous, like in the locked basement room with the dragon’s egg, get the dragon a head-start on its hoard. He shakes his head, fondness making the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Probably easier if I just get a bank account,” he says. He glances over his shoulder towards the mirror and adds, “And no one can run off with it.” 

“Yeah.” Carolina tilts her head to the side. For the first time since she brought his reflection into the room, she smiles. Amusement smooths the worried crease from her forehead. “You’re lucky they don’t do random locker inspections. How were you going to explain a couple hundred dollars?”

Church blinks. He’d probably have just done a memory spell, but he’s not going to admit that out loud. He glances down at his emergency bag. “Uh…. Yeah, let’s go with that bank account.” Then he snorts. “But first I should count this, make sure he didn’t take any money with him.”

He drops the bag on his bed and begins pulling out the rolls of cash. A second later he stiffens in surprise as arms wrap around him from behind and Carolina’s chin digs into his shoulder. He squawks, “What are you _doing_?”

He can’t see Carolina’s expression, her face just a pale smudge in the corner of his eye, but she sounds both embarrassed and a little exasperated as she says, “It’s called a hug, Caboose gives you them all the time.”

“I know what it is, I just….”

It turns out that Carolina is terrible at hugs. She holds on too tightly, and she doesn’t know where to actually put her hands so it’s more like the Heimlich maneuver, and her chin is still digging into his arm, and at least Caboose knows when to let go, but--

He doesn’t pull away.

* * *

Carolina has just gotten to the bottom of the stairs when Grey looks away from the TV. Grey gives her and Church a wide smile. Her eyes linger on Church. “Done with your temper tantrum?”

Carolina watches Church bristle. “I didn’t have a--” She elbows him, and he shuts his mouth with a snap. Arguing with Grey isn’t going to get him what he wants. He takes a breath and says, “Carolina and I were wondering if you decided anything about the robotics club.”

Carolina adds, “It’s not fair if I have track and he’s stuck here every night.”

Kimball glances between them. “Well, we wouldn’t want to be unfair,” she says dryly. “We’re going to let Church do the robotics club on a trial basis-- on a trial basis.” She repeats herself when Church starts to grin, and gives him a warning look. “I will have the club schedule and we will be in contact with Mr. Simmons.”

Church grimaces a little at the reminder that Mr. Simmons runs the robotics club, but he’s back to grinning a second later. “Okay. It’s a deal.” He pauses. “Now about the dinners with Leo--”

Grey giggles. “Oh no, you’re not getting out of them that easily!”

The grin drops off his face. “Come on,” he whines. “Why? And because you think it’s funny isn’t a good reason!”

Carolina hides her relief behind an amused look as Church continues to whine and Grey giggles. As long as they’re making Church come to these dinners, she has a chance to convince her father that Church is a person. They just need to spend time with each other. That’s how it worked with Grey and Kimball. They’ll talk, and her dad will realize that Church isn’t just an experiment gone wrong, and then Church won’t have to worry.

“Kimball!” Church says, almost a pleading screech.

Carolina swallows back a laugh. It might be easier if Church keeps complaining like this. Carolina is pretty sure her father has never whined about anything in his impossibly long life. The sooner he realizes that Church is a separate person, the better.

There’s movement in the corner of her eye. When she looks, she sees her reflection in the window. The mirror world must be getting back to normal, because Anilorac mirrors her exactly as their gazes meet. Still, Carolina catches the small, determined nod she gives before her reflection is just a reflection again.

Carolina gives a little nod back. Then she says, “Quit while you’re ahead, Church. At least you get the Robotics Club.”

Church groans.

**Author's Note:**

> **Fun trivia of the episode:**
> 
> Originally Kimball's fear was supposed to be more serious, about Kimball being terrified of the Council. When they started filming, however, Kimball's actress felt that the episode needed a bit of breathing space and suggested a sillier fear. Her arachnophobia is actually an inside joke with the cast, since Kimball’s actress loves spiders and actually has a pet tarantula. Well, had. Unless tarantulas have a really long life span. (Please don't tell us if they do, we're not spider fans here.)


End file.
